


Here Comes a Greek Tragedy

by idiotbrothers



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Angst, F/M, M/M, Multiple Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotbrothers/pseuds/idiotbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saving the world isn't all it's cracked up to be. AU in which Arin slays witches and looks good doing it...or, to be a bit more accurate: AU in which Arin nervously fumbles his way around the realm of magic in a super impractical outfit, nearly dies upwards of three hundred times, and gets his heart broken more than once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salve, terrae magicae

**Author's Note:**

> Work title from "Greek Tragedy" by The Wombats. Chapter titles from the Madoka OST.

Arin stared at his reflection in the mirror, frowning with dissatisfaction at the sight of it. The bags under his eyes were growing more pronounced by the day, and his entire face exuded discontentment, pallid and pockmarked with the fading remnants of a recent acne breakout. Arin shifted his attention from his unhappy face to his midsection, pinching his belly between his thumb and forefinger and trying not to let his pessimism consume him.  
  
He turned away from the mirror and got under the hot spray of the shower, self-deprecating thoughts swirling darkly through his head as he scrubbed hard at his skin with his purple loofah, absurdly bright in comparison to his state of mind. When he'd gotten out and slipped into his baggiest, most dully colored pajamas, he headed directly for his room, aiming to try to get some drawing done for the fifth consecutive night that week. He hadn't been very productive thus far, hating everything that his cramped hand sketched out. Though he figured it was better to make numerous disastrous attempts per week than to give in to the alternative, which was to throw his tablet pen into the wall and spend his nights texting Barry or Ross grisly facts about the animal kingdom that he'd gleaned from the documentaries he was binge-watching while they were out partying.  _I believe the common denominator of the universe is not harmony; but chaos, hostility, and murder_ , Werner Herzog's grim voice echoed through his head. Arin marveled at the fact that he agreed with the guy. Once upon a time, he'd been cheerfully optimistic about most things, disliking people who found a way to inject cynicism into every facet of their worldview. It was amazing how life could change a person over the course of several years and one long existential crisis.

As Arin was booting up Flash and resigning himself to another tiring session of questioning his decision to ever become a self-taught animator, Mochi brushed up against his leg, meowing insistently. "Pet your own ass, Mochi," Arin muttered. "I'm busy." Mochi's meowing only increased in volume, much to Arin's annoyance. "I'm not in the mood to play with you right now, you dumbass cat." Mochi swiped at Arin's leg with a clawed foot, making him yelp with surprise. "Dude, what's gotten into you?" He finally glanced down at Mochi, who was circling a strange object, meowing intermittently. "What the...?" Arin bent over and picked it up, holding it up to the light. It was a little bigger than a marble, opaque and pastel pink, with reflective shards of glass shot through it on the inside. A pair of tiny, engraved wings poked out of its sides, and a heart-shaped button protruded from its center. "Where'd you get this, buddy? Been stealing toys from the neighbors' kids again?" Arin directed at Mochi, who was now sitting quietly and fixing Arin with one of his stern feline stares.

Arin started to turn back to his computer, absently thumbing at the odd sphere's button. From one second to the next, a flurry of rose-scented clouds enveloped him, blinding him to his surroundings and making him fall off his chair, only to be suspended weightlessly above the ground. "What the _fuck_ ," Arin gasped, kicking his legs futilely and wiping at his eyes to no avail. When he chanced a look upwards, what looked like a cascade of glitter was raining down on him, making him squeeze his eyes shut instinctively as it bathed him, tickling his limbs. An unusual tingling sensation was suffusing his body, blowing his hair back and running along his sides like the touch of a gentle hand. Arin curled into the fetal position until it stopped, at which point he lifted his arms and opened his eyes hesitantly, his heart thundering.

Nothing about his room looked any different, to his immense relief. Arin sighed, bringing his hand up to rub at his face wearily, which was when he noticed that he was suddenly wearing a pair of very frilly gloves. His eyebrows rose incredulously as he sat up and inspected them, lace-trimmed and fingerless and embroidered with minuscule white hearts. His exposed fingernails were now painted a glossy pink. "Am I having a bad trip?" Arin asked aloud. "Did Ross slip something in my drink at lunch today? I wouldn't put it past him, the giant dildo."

"Neither would I," an unfamiliar male voice said, nearly making Arin leap out of his skin, "But Ross had nothing to do with this." 

"Who said that?" Arin exclaimed, jumping to his feet and looking around the room frantically, his gloved hands forming automatic fists. "Fair warning: I'm an expertly trained martial arts master. I'll karate-chop your balls off!" The disembodied voice gave a condescending scoff. "Oh _please_ , Arin. We both know the extent of your 'fight training' is limited to the Kamehameha poses you practiced in your room as a snot-nosed kid." 

"How do you know about that? Wait, how do you know my _name_?" 

"Down here, Einstein." Arin looked down, but all he saw was Mochi, lashing his tail back and forth like he did when he was impatient. "No, don't look away! Hello, Dumbass Cat speaking, do you read me?" Arin's gaze settled on Mochi once more, his eyes widening. "Stop gaping at me; it's rude. You've watched a shitload of anime, so the concept of a talking cat shouldn't be so foreign to you." Mochi's mouth wasn't moving at all, but somehow Arin could still hear him as clearly as if he were speaking into a mic. "Someone's pranking me. That's what this is," Arin said, grasping onto whatever semi-reasonable explanation might dispel the reedy hysteria beginning to take root in his chest. "Before you start panicking, you might wanna take a look at yourself in the mirror. My explanation will sound a lot less crazy that way."

Arin rushed to the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get the door open and the light switched on. His reflection in the mirror made his head spin, bewilderment stealing his breath as he looked himself over, poking and prodding at the elaborate outfit that he was inexplicably sporting. It looked like some kind of particularly well-made cosplay ensemble, all frills and bows and perfect embroidery. His fluttery top had puffed sleeves and an unsubtle pink bow attached to the front, and his waist was wrapped in a layered chain belt, below which hung a flared skirt that matched the color of his nails. His hairy legs were stuffed into white leather boots, and on his head was a circlet that reminded him of a simpler version of Arwen's from _Lord of the Rings_. He looked ridiculous.

"Really? I think you look kinda cute," Mochi said, winding around his legs. "What, you can read my mind now, too? This has gotta be some kind of fever-dream. Serves me right for not laying off the caffeine before bed." He touched an inquisitive hand to his face, which was looking a lot clearer than it had earlier that night, his skin practically glowing. Upon closer inspection, his upper eyelids were dusted in glittery eyeshadow, and his lips were definitely coated in some sort of gloss.

"Are you gonna freak out on me, or can I tell you why you're suddenly dressed like Usagi Tsukino's flamboyant uncle?" Arin blinked, wound a finger through a strand of his hair. "Let's hear it, I guess. Things can't get much weirder than they already have."

 "They totally can, I'm afraid. I think you should probably sit down for this." 

* * *

Arin narrowly dodged another stream of dark energy, cast in his direction in rapid, individual bursts, like a deadly row of shuriken. Panting and readjusting his grip on his staff, Arin used his heat-seeking vision to try to discern his attacker's location, but it was no use. Whoever they were, they were very good at hiding.

Mochi manifested on Arin's shoulder, cuffing him lightly on the side of the head with his paw. "Amateur hour's wearing thin, kid. Pull yourself together and take this guy out; he doesn't even qualify as a lesser witch." Arin huffed angrily, pushing his bangs out of his face. "Sorry my life-threatening fight is _boring_ you, but I dunno what you expected when you sent me out here with _one_ magical skill and zero idea of what I'd be using it on." Mochi yawned, irritating Arin even further. "Just try to wrap this up within the next half-hour, alright? The Sandman's calling my name." With that, he vanished, leaving Arin to launch himself into the air in the hopes of finding a better vantage point from which to target his mysterious opponent. A crackling shockwave bowled him over from behind just as he'd started to scan the area again, knocking the wind out of him and making his eyes stream. 

"Fucking coward," Arin wheezed, firing off an attack in the direction the electricity had come from. "If you had any balls, you'd show yourself!" Immediately after the taunt had left his lips, Arin caught a blurry glimpse of lightning-quick movement in his periphery. Startled, he spun around, realizing that something was hurtling himself at him with no intention of stopping. "Shit," he hissed, throwing up his arms to cover his face and bracing himself for the impact. Arin's arms felt like they were catching on fire, a stinging heat racing through his veins as he waited for a collision that never came. Slowly, he lowered his arms and lifted his head. He was alone, silence settling thickly over the air around him. Arin's heartbeat began to slow, but picked right back up once he'd glanced down and saw the unconscious body splayed over the pavement, cracks spreading out from where it had presumably landed. 

Arin lowered himself to the ground and bent over his fallen enemy, who looked entirely too human for Arin's liking, his shallow breaths stirring his salt-and-pepper hair. "Congrats," Mochi said, appearing next to the strange man's head, "You learned a new skill. Gold star for Arin."

" _I_ did this to him?" Arin asked, baffled, each of his arms giving a tell-tale throb. "It was a complete accident."

"Well, either way, you got the job done. You can easily finish him off now, which is a relief. I was starting to think we'd be here all night." Arin frowned, his eyes roving over the man's unmoving form. He didn't look like someone who'd be caught up in this far-fetched, Lovecraftian _Battle for the Universe shit_ , what with his 'Math Man' shirt and his boat shoes. He looked like somebody's dad.

"You waiting for him to wake up and give you a kiss?" Arin winced. "No, I just--"

"So get on with it, then. Kill him." 

Ice trickled down Arin's spine as he considered what it would be like to do so, his staff humming under his hand as if in anticipation. "I won't do it," Arin said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. Mochi narrowed his eyes at him. " _Won't_ , or _can't_?"

"Both," Arin said, willing his staff to shrink back into his transmutation pendant. "Let's just get outta here."

"You might end up regretting this decision," Mochi warned. "Take a look at the guy's left hand." Confused, Arin did as he was told, uncurling the man's fingers and laying his palm out flat. There was a dark burn mark in the center of it, ashen skin ringing a thumbprint-sized lesion that Arin could have sworn flickered slightly, as if it were alive. "It's always the hands that go first," Mochi said, before Arin could voice any of the questions running through his brain. "He may not be very dangerous now, but if you let him live, his soul will only continue to corrode until his human form is eaten away, growing more and more distorted with every rampage."

Arin set his jaw, turned away from the man and pressed the button on his pendant, feeling his gaudy battle garb give way to his worn jeans and hoodie in a burst of rose-scented wind. "Arin--" 

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? I'm not murdering some poor rando in cold blood." 

"Suit yourself," Mochi said, "But pretty soon, you're gonna have to get  your hands dirty whether you like it or not." With that, he linked his mind to Arin's and teleported them back to his apartment, leaving Math Man to fend for himself in the chilly night.


	2. Signum malum

"You literally never hang out with us anymore, Arin," Ross was saying, draping himself over Arin's shoulder and tugging at his hair.

"He's right, dude," Barry chimed in, poking his head in the doorway of Arin's room, bag of chips in hand. "For the past couple weeks you've been ghosting in and out of here like that wraith kid from _Inazuma Eleven_." 

"Excuse me if I've been out getting shit done while you two laze around all day," Arin said testily, trying to detach the vise-like grip Ross's fingers had on his arm.

"It's not like you to exclude us when you've got a project in the works," Ross whined. "So either you're totally making that up, and something else is going on that you don't want us to know about, or you've gotten sick of us." Arin looked at Barry, who gave him a one-armed shrug as he shoveled a handful of chips into his mouth, making no move to disagree with Ross. Arin sighed, thinking that there was no way for him to clue his roommates in on what he'd actually been doing for the past month without causing a fuss. And possibly earning himself an appointment with his former therapist.

"I'm sorry. I guess I have been kinda distant lately."

"Fuckin' understatement," Ross exclaimed. "My heart's been crumbling to bits by the day." 

"Okay, okay, geez. How about I treat you guys to lunch?"

"Cool," Barry said, apparently satisfied. He ducked out of the room, and Ross followed him, but not before mussing Arin's hair and pressing a very wet, very sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Ugh," Arin muttered, wiping at the spot and getting up to grab his wallet.

Arin had told Barry and Ross that they could choose the restaurant, which turned out to be a bad idea, because they argued about it for almost thirty minutes before Arin shut them up by making the choice himself. They ended up going to the banh mi place across the street, with which they were all very well-acquainted. Ross and Barry made vibrant conversation as they ate, chattering a mile a minute about cartoons they were keeping up with; and the latest crop of survival horror games that they maybe wouldn't be opposed to trying; and that guy Greg at Holly's party who was caught snorting coke in the bathroom, only it turned out to be powdered sugar from the donuts on the snack table. Arin listened and nodded along, laughing when it was appropriate.

He felt like he was out of the loop, having dedicated so much time to his secret witch-hunting excursions that he barely even texted the guys anymore unless it was to remind them that they were running low on toilet paper, or to tell them that he'd be getting home especially late. Still, being in the presence of his two closest friends warmed him, their animated chitchat acting like a salve on his stressed psyche. Arin finished off his sandwich and leaned his chin on his fist, watching Ross fondly as he did a terrible impression of Colin Firth, whom he apparently thought had a prominent lisp.

When it was time to order dessert, Barry asked for his usual sweet corn pudding and Ross asked for the earl grey pie. Arin abruptly excused himself, leaving a wad of bills with Barry so they could pay when they were done. He made his way outside to the alley at the back of the restaurant, leaning against the wall and lifting his head to the cool winter air.

"Rough day?"

Arin shifted to see who had spoken. A guy with a wild mane of curly hair and a stained server apron sat cross-legged on the ground to Arin's right, lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. Arin cleared his throat. "No, I--I'm just kinda...overworked, I guess." The guy nodded understandingly, then lapsed into silence, squinting up into the overcast sky as he smoked. After a minute had ticked by, Arin asked, "Do you, uh. Do you work here? I don't think I've ever seen you around before."

"I just started the other day," the guy explained. He rose to his feet with a grunt and dropped his cigarette to the pavement, grinding it out with his huge sneaker. "I've actually gotta get back in there now," he said, indicating the restaurant with a nod of his head. "Hope things start to pick up for you, man." He clapped Arin on the shoulder and brushed past him, disappearing through the back door. Arin blinked after him, feeling a bit unsettled, almost like he'd just experienced a moment of déjà vu. The intermingled scents of tobacco and green tea lingered in the air.

By the time Arin went back inside, Barry and Ross had gotten up and were shrugging on their coats, waving him over when they caught sight of him. "You okay?" Barry asked him, instant concern painting his face. Arin forced a dismissive smile.

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" 

* * *

 

Arin stared in awe as the mage who had picked up his slack hurled attacks every which way with an ease that was blowing his mind, her cruel bolts of crimson energy hitting the target every time.

Minutes earlier, Arin had been doing a rather poor job of fighting tonight's quarry, a huge, terrifying mass of teeth and rapidly moving eyeballs, its dozens of taloned hands having done a number on Arin's defenses. He had been gasping for air and heaving with exertion, blood dripping from the gash on his leg, when Mochi appeared and instructed him to hide. No sooner had he done so than the woman he was now watching had rushed onto the scene and started putting him to shame with her skill in battle, long black cloak fluttering behind her like a pair of dark wings.

In no time at all, she had felled the witch, its gruesome form dissolving into dust and leaving the remains of its human body behind, writhing on the floor at her feet. It was barely distinguishable as human at all, weeping scabs riddling its limbs and torso where its skin had grown discolored and warped like the surface of an ancient mirror, its tar-black hands clawing at the gouges where its eyes should have been. Arin had to look away as she pierced its heart with her sword, bile rising in his throat. The other mage's total lack of hesitation shocked him to his core, made him wonder how many battles it would take for him to be able to kill as remorselessly as she just had.

Up to that point, Arin had been able to get away with sparing most of the witches he battled, unable to land the killing blow when the time came. He'd made a habit out of retreating once his opponents had devolved into their human shells, regardless of how blackened their souls appeared to be. There had only been one instance where Arin didn't employ enough restraint, and was forced to take the life of a lesser witch to put her out of her misery. The gleeful thrum of his staff as he struck the dying girl still haunted him, left him sickened with himself for nights on end, and subsequently, more determined than ever to avoid making the mistake of dehumanizing the creatures he fought. 

"I can sense you," the mage who had finished what he'd started said, bringing Arin back to the present moment with a shock. Was she talking to _him?_

"Yes, you," she said, as if she could read his mind as easily as Mochi could. But that was impossible. Arin's palms began to sweat anyway.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I can tell you're harmless." 

Arin's fear ratcheted down a few notches, and he started to debate with himself whether or not he would be ill-advised to reveal himself. It was only then that a remote corner of his brain registered that something about the woman's voice was very familiar to him, almost uncomfortably so. She turned around, then, and the sight of her face made Arin gasp with recognition.

" _Suzy?_ "

He grew visible the second he spoke, making Suzy's mouth drop open in disbelief. "Arin! What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like..." Her eyes roved over his body, apparently taking in the full effect of his outfit. He blushed and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "I could ask you the same thing," he said, referring to her first question. 

"So you got caught up in this too, huh?" Suzy mused, walking right up to him and taking his pendant in her slender hand, examining it with a sharp eye. Arin's face grew even hotter at her proximity, and he stuttered wordlessly for a few seconds before he managed to say, "How did _you_ end up becoming a mage? The job doesn't suit you." She released his pendant and stared at him coolly. "I think it suits me just fine, actually. I'd say you're the one who's out of his depth here. Only one kill under your belt so far? I'm surprised you're still alive." 

Arin blanched. Had she figured that out by inspecting the surface of his pendant? Either way, he felt a sudden burst of grief, deep in the center of his chest. He and Suzy hadn't been on the best of terms when they'd last seen each other, but he would never have wished this fate upon her. His face must have betrayed how he was feeling, because Suzy seemed to soften, flicking him on the chin like she used to, way back when. "I'm fine," she told him, her catlike eyes glittering warmly. "And so are you, if you've made it this far. We're both gonna be okay."

Arin smiled weakly at her, fighting the urge to draw her into a hug. It had been a while since they'd parted ways, but there was still something so comforting about being around her, this girl who knew him like the back of her hand. "I missed you," Arin blurted impulsively, embarrassment making him duck his head the minute he said it. She let out a little laugh, reaching over to card her fingers through his hair, give his earlobe a teasing pull. "Stop being so disgustingly cute. With this little skirt of yours, and..." She trailed off, swiping a thumb over his sticky bottom lip. Arin's gaze grew heavy as they stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, a flurry of good memories they'd shared shaking loose and drifting to the surface of his awareness.

Suzy was the one to look away first, furrowing her brow and putting a bit of distance between them. "Maybe I'll run into you again sometime," she said, trying for aloof, but the hint of hopefulness that crept into her voice told Arin otherwise. Arin opened his mouth to echo the sentiment, but she interrupted him by pressing down on the sizable jewel of one of the many rings decorating her left hand, causing a number of wispy gray clouds to eddy and swirl around her. 

When the mist lifted, Suzy's intimidating battle gown had been replaced with a much more casual sweatshirt and leggings. "Remember to tear down the glamour before you leave," Suzy said, giving him a perky salute and turning to slip through the enchantment ringing the area, bands of color rippling in her wake like rainbows in an oil slick.

"Suzy, wait!" Arin said, belatedly outstretching his arm. But she was already gone, vanished as quickly as if he'd only dreamed her up. He bit his lip against a pinprick of regret and changed back into his normal clothes with a press of his pendant, dissipating the glamour with several methodical gestures. The accompanying breeze that his spell stirred up blew a scrap of paper into his face, and he was about to toss it aside before the writing on it caught his attention.

_Call me_ was penciled across it in Suzy's handwriting, followed by what was apparently her new phone number, and a doodle of a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. Arin breathed out an incredulous laugh, holding the paper gingerly, like it was something fragile. Mochi materialized in front of him, giving him a judgmental look. "Shut up," Arin said, before the cat could make an appropriately disparaging jibe. 

**Author's Note:**

> Initially I'd intended to wait to post this story until after I'd finished it, because I have a bad habit of leaving stories unfinished once I've lost interest in them. Unfortunately I haven't had the time nor the motivation to work on this lately, so I decided I'd start to post what I have so far. I have a lot more of this fic written already, and chapters will go up whenever. 
> 
> tumblr: idiotbrothers / regretroids


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